


Rivers Over Hills

by john036



Series: My Stydia One-Shot Collection [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4474346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/john036/pseuds/john036
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles visits Lydia.<br/>Lydia visits Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

The house was quiet; not a creepy quiet, where you expect some sort of monster to pop out of the shadows and kill you, but a comfortable one. My mother was asleep in her bedroom with the help of the glasses of wine she had to drink on the disaster of the date she had; I always knew if my mom’s dates were bad just by how drunk she was when she returned home – the drunker she was, the worst the date was. I guess the alcohol dulls the boredom.

     I on the other hand, was burning the midnight oil, researching for my history paper. It was on myths found in American history; I was doing mine on Roanoke. Despite the fact I have been at it for nearly three hours, the only information I’ve found was the same stuff I found in the dozen of other sources I’ve found, just reworded to make it seem fresher.

     My comfortable silence was interrupted by the soft vibration of my cell phone; because it was in the middle of the night, I knew it must be a pack member. Stiles. I let out a deep breath, staring at his name and the goofy picture he assigned himself for his contact photo. Setting my pen down and pushing my chair away from the desk, I unlock my phone and read the text message. _I’m at your door_. Some how, four simple words that Stiles didn’t even verbally say left me breathless.

     My door lets out a slow, loud creak as I open my door as quietly as I could. Luckily for me though, my mother wasn’t the lightest sleeper, so I knew that the sound wouldn’t awaken her. I slip out of my bedroom and tip=toe down the hallway and down the stairs. This isn’t my first go around sneaking down the ancient-old wooden steps, so my feet avoid all the weak spots in the wood, allowing me to descend the steps quietly.

     I peak outside the window next to my front door just to be safe that Stiles is actually there, and he is. He’s still wearing what he wore to school today – khakis, those stupid Adidas, and one of his infinite flannels, with all the buttons buttoned.

     The tears in his eyes don’t catch my attention until I open my front door. Stiles doesn’t cry much, so when he does cry, it doesn’t go unnoticed. His bright whiskey-gold eyes shine even brighter thanks to the porch light reflecting off of his tear soaked eyes. And his cries aren’t small; the tears create rivers down his cheeks,

like rivers down hills. My heart doesn’t melt when I see him like this; it breaks.

     “Stiles, what’s wrong?” I say quietly, my voice coming out in a very low whisper. I feel my wide eyes grow even wider, if that’s at all possible. I wait for him to say something, but nothing comes, so I take his hand and lead him inside. I don’t bother being quiet as I lead him to my bedroom.

     Once we reach my bedroom, I quietly shut the door behind me, while Stiles crosses my bedroom to sit on the floor of my bed. I know my questions won’t get answered so I sit back down in my desk chair, but turn it to face him. I watch him carefully; his long, pale fingers shake on his thighs. Something bad happened; I can tell.

     “Scott and I got in a fight,” Stiles finally breaks the silence and his words cut through the tension like warm knife cutting through butter. “Malia and I broke up.”

     “All in one night?” I ask; he nods. “Wow, your life really sucks.”    

     Stiles smiles, but I know it pains him to do so. “Yeah, I guess it really does.” I stand quietly move to sit next to him on the bed.

     “What happened?”

     Stiles lets out a deep breath. “What do you want to hear first, Scott or Malia?” he asks, his eyes still fixated on his shaking hands.

     “Whichever you want to talk about.”

     Stiles lets out another deep sigh. “Alright, I’ll start with Scott; you know last week, when we went to see Valack at Eichen?” I nod. “So the night before, I was at the library at school. It was late at night, and I was leaving from the research session Malia and I were doing earlier about the chimeras and stuff, I fell asleep hours beforehand.” I give him a tight-lipped smile; of course he did. “My jeep was being stupid again, and not starting so I had to fix it; that’s when Donovan happened.” My face falls as he continues. “I didn’t even hear him approach me, he just appeared, like a ghost or something. He rested his hand on my shoulder, but it didn’t _feel_ like a hand; instead, it was like a thousand needles biting into my skin – the Doctors turned him into a wendigo. I hit him over the head with a wrench and ran back into school, into the library. Of course, the bastard followed me in there, though. He didn’t want to kill me, though; he just wanted to revenge for his dad. Either way, I was scared for my life, and there was no possible way I could out run the guy, so I started to climb the scaffolding. Then he grabbed onto my leg, and I swear to God, Lyds, I thought that was it; I thought I was goner. I grabbed for anything that would keep me up there, so I grabbed onto one of the support hooks, and pulled. One of the planks holding some pipes fell and they went _through_ him, Lyds.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I killed him.”

     “Stiles, that wasn’t your fault though, Stiles, you thought he was going to kill you. It was you or him,” I answer.

     “Try telling that to Scott,” he mutters. “Malia told him about it today, and of course Theo told her.”

     “Is this why you and Malia broke up?” I ask; he nods.

     “Scott yelled at me, of course, because I didn’t have to kill him, apparently. But I knew if Scott was in the same situation I was in, he would have done the same,” Stiles says. “He mentioned the thought of possibly kicking me out of the pack, Lyds. He said ‘We’re not killers’,” Stiles says, his voice going hoarse again. “And then I confronted Malia about Theo, and I kind of snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I broke things off.” Stiles wipes the tears from his cheeks. “I honestly don’t even know why I’m crying. I guess the emotions got the best of me, or something.” I don’t stop him when he rests his head on my shoulder.

     “You’re going to sleep here tonight, alright?” my words come out less like a suggestion and more like an order. Stiles picks up his head from my shoulder and looks me in the eye; our face mere centimeters away from each other. “I don’t want you on the roads like this Stiles. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

     Our slow, steady breaths mix together thanks to our closeness. I don’t even feel myself lean closer to him, but the centimeters slowly disappear and our cheeks brush against each other. Our cheeks are so close, the tears rolling down his face make my cheeks wet. In his eyes, I see the same look from when I kissed him in the boy’s locker room to stop his panic attack; a mix of fright and amazement.

     I see his lips slowly come to meet mine, but I lean in, not wanting to wait any longer. The kiss is soft, but filled with emotion. We break apart for just a moment, so I can shut off the lights on my desk and the ceiling fan. When I return to Stiles, I take his hand and we climb into our bed.

     I don’t even realize we’re peeling off each other’s clothes until we are both naked under the covers, our warm bodies pushing against each other. Our bodies move together similar to how gears grinding against each other – we just fit together. The sex isn’t rough and wild, but instead slow and sensual.

     When I wake up the following morning, I find him staring at me. Immediately, I am filled with guilt, as I took advantage of Stiles’ emotional vulnerability. Stiles waited for me to awaken before he decides to leave. Standing over me, he leans down, and kisses me on the lips. He’s gone by the time I open my eyes.


	2. Part II

The soft drumming of the rain hits my windshield, adding an extra sound effect to the song that plays on the radio. My long, skinny fingers drum at the steering wheel as I wait for the traffic light to turn red.

     My dad is working the late shift again at the office, so I decided to bring him dinner; it’s been a while since we’ve eaten dinner together in his office. I grab the large paper bag of Chinese take-out and hurry inside, using my body to protect our dinner.

     My heart stops when I step inside the quiet labyrinth of desks. There she stands, Lydia, leaning over the desk of Jordan Parrish, who sits next to her. He can barely keep his eyes off of her. I do my best to not look at the two of them as I make my way to my dad’s office, but I just can’t.

     Ten days have passed since my late-night visit to Lydia’s house, and we’ve barely talked since. I don’t blame her, though. I knew the moment it happened, there was no going back to normalcy; it was forever going to be incredibly awkward between the two of us. But that doesn’t change the fact that I miss her.

     I miss her like the moon misses the sun. I miss our late night phone calls, that would go so late into the evening there was no point for me to even go to sleep. I miss us solving the mysteries together. I just miss spending time together.

     Lydia catches me staring at her and Parrish, and it’s like my world stops, with the only things moving are her and me. But then my dad snaps me back to reality.

     “Hey, buddy,” my dad says. He quickly notices the stare down Lydia and I had, but doesn’t mention it. I silently thank him for doing so.

     “I brought us dinner,” I say, answering the unasked question on what I was doing at the sheriff’s office. “I thought we could do some old-school Stilinski bonding and eat in your office.”

     “Sorry, son, Melissa stopped by and brought me dinner on her way home from the hospital,” my dad says. I smile to myself, happy that my dad and Melissa finally moved past the will-they won’t-they stage and just start dating.

     I clear my throat, catching Lydia staring glancing at my dad and I out of the corner of my eye. “I’ll just leave this here then. I’m sure one of the deputies will want it,” I say, handing the doggy bag over to my dad.

     “Are you sure, Stiles?”

     I nod. “Yeah, I’m not that hungry, anyways. I’ll see you in the morning.” I silently leave the sheriff’s office, not looking back to Lydia and Parrish as I go.

     On my way home, I grab a personal sized pizza from Romeo’s and set up shop in the living room, watching some re-run of “Boy Meets World” on the television. Just as I start dozing off to sleep, someone knocks at my door. I get up from the couch to look through the peep-hole, to see who is visiting my house at such a late hour; but subconsciously, I know who it is; I knew before I even looked through the peep hole.

     I unlock the door and open it to reveal Lydia, shivering in the crisp lat-autumn evening. “Hey,” are the only words I can force out of my mouth, and even then it sounds less like words more like an exhalation of air. She gives me a smile in response. I move myself out of the way to allow herself to enter my house. I notice her inspecting the mess of the pizza box and the two empty soda cans on the coffee table. I smirk at her; it reminds me of the countless times she something similar in the past. “I can’t keep doing this Stiles,” she says, turning to face me. Her strawberry blonde hair cascades over her shoulder like a river of red, with her sharp shoulder acting like hills. “I can’t keep acting like nothing is wrong, when something obviously is.”

     “Then why have you been avoiding me for the past week and a half then?” the words leave my mouth like bullets leaving a gun. Even I flinch when I hear them.

     Lydia sighs, sitting down on the couch. I sit down next to her. “Stiles, you have been the only constant thing in my life for the past three years, and you don’t know how much it means to me that you are always there,” she says. Her fingers winding themselves into knots on her lap. “Even when I don’t ask you to be there for me, you are; and I may say I don’t need you, but I think deep down, I know I do, even if I’m too afraid to admit it sometimes.” She looks up, and that’s when I see her jade green eyes glistening with tears. “And then when you came to my house that night, and we slept together, I felt like my whole world got picked up, turned upside down, shaken up, and put down right side up again.”

     My eyebrows knit together as I look at her. I take her hands in my own. “What do you mean by that, Lyds?” I ask her.

     She lets out a sigh and turns to rest her forehead on my shoulder. “It was that night, Stiles, that I couldn’t keep running from the truth,” she says. “It was then I had to admit to myself something I have been keeping silent in me for quite some time.” She lifts her head and looks up at me. “I’m in love with you, Stiles.”

     I feel my jaw drop at her admission. I blink myself back to reality, and brush my thumbs under each of her eyes, wiping her tears away. “Why are you crying, Lyds?” I ask.

     She lets out an embarrassed laugh and wipes away the tears on her cheeks. “I honestly don’t even know, I guess I was scared about this situation. I’ve been playing this conversation over in my head, to determine all of your possible responses,” she whispers. Our foreheads are now resting against each other’s.

     I cradle her cheeks in my hands. “Lydia, you have nothing to be scared of, not anymore. Besides, I don’t think it’s any secret that my feelings for you are far above mutual,” I assure her. This gains a laugh from her. “But I need to ask you something.”

     Lydia leans into me even more, our nose and cheeks brush against each other. “Anything you want to know. I’m basically an open book when it comes to you, now.”

     I let out a nervous breath before asking, “What was going on between you and Parrish?”

     Lydia gulps, nervous. “I wish I could tell you, but I couldn’t even if I tried. Everything about that was just so confusing. I guess it was part of me running away from my feelings for you? Honest, though, nothing happened between him and I. I mean, besides him trying to kiss me during one of our fighting lessons. But I shut him down and ended our lessons then and there,” she answers. Her green eyes are staring deeply into my own. I feel myself falling through them, as if they were a cave of jade stones.

     I close the near nothingness of space between us with my lips. Her lips are soft and plump as always, and she kisses me back. He grabs me by the side of the head, and grab her by the waist, pulling each other closer to one another; I can almost feel ourselves becoming one. We break apart from one another to gather air. As much as I want to continue right then and there, I know how awkward it would be if God forbid, my dad comes home to see Lydia and I on the couch, kissing.

     I take her hand and lead her upstairs and into my bedroom. We trip over the objects, which lay askew on the floor, unable to see them in the darkness. We collapse onto the bed and continue where we left off in my living room. Our clothes join the objects on the floor in the darkness.

     When I woke up the following morning, Lydia was still asleep. She laid on her stomach, her sides expanding and compress as she takes her breaths. My father walking down the hallway causes her to stir awake; he must’ve known Lydia stayed the night when he didn’t find her car gone when he woke up this morning. As the sleep leaves her eyes, we stare at each other, and I swear nothing else in the world matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this isn't technically a one-shot, because of the two parts, but in my opinion it both parts can really work as one piece. I just decided to publish it separately.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ aplaceforstydia.tumblr.com!
> 
> Please like and comment/review! It means a lot!


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